


An Elvian by Any Other Name (Is Still Probably Cally)

by cjr09



Series: NaEldWriMo [5]
Category: Eldemore
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, but I guess with bena as your creator that's par for the course, everyone is just way too eager to get naked if you ask me, idk teen rating for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5748205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjr09/pseuds/cjr09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, for all his studies, there are still some words Cally doesn't know in the Wolfkin language.</p><p>Fenrir has never been happier to not be understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Elvian by Any Other Name (Is Still Probably Cally)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Benathorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benathorn/gifts).



"Cally."

 

"Oh, this one's a cute one! I don't think I have any cuttlefish plushies yet... I wonder if Willy would want one? Hmm. Better get two- no, three, the Sealer'll want one too..."

 

_"Cally."_

 

"Oh, and look at this adorable elkrin one! The Sealer has a Jade Stag Elkrin, I believe..."

 

_"Cally please."_

 

"Oh, and it  _is_ starting to get chilly, maybe I should get them a pair of socks as well? I think Azara shredded a few of theirs in revenge for the whole glass stealing ordeal..."

 

_"Habi'b please I'm begging you."_

 

"A little patience wouldn't kill you, Fenrir- and what did you call me?" Cally asks, finally, finally turning to look over his shoulder at Fenrir, who has fallen dramatically to the ground and is gripping one of Cally's ankles in as strong of a grip as he can without risking toppling the young prince, face down into the cobblestone and earning more than one amused or curious stare.

 

" _I_ didn't say anything, Cally, I'm too weak. My stomach is growling loud enough for you to hear, is all," Fenrir deflects, keeping his face down as he suddenly has more important things on his mind than explaining his lapse back into the Wolfkin language.

 

Like how he just called Cally  _sweetheart_.

 

Cally rolls his eyes and turns to pay for the latest collections to his ever-growing hoard of plushies- really, it was no wonder he and the Sealer got along so well- and Fenrir whines, low and quiet, partially out of hunger because Cally had promised him muffins at  _least_ an hour ago but mostly out of needing to suddenly reevaluate his feelings for the Elvian who's leg he's clinging to.

 

"Your stomach growling is so powerful it even manages to move your mouth and sound like actual words. Well done, Fenrir," Cally jokes dryly, rearranging the plushies in his bag so that they appear to be in more comfortable positions as Fenrir picks himself slowly off the ground, inwardly cursing because  _apparently_ he thought that Cally's habit of treating them like they were alive was  _cute_ now.

 

Fenrir wrestles the bag passive-agressively out of Cally's hands because "You could break a nail Cally" and Cally drops the issue of 'Habi'b' to try and take the bag back, all but throwing his body weight into Fenrir in an attempt to retrieve the plushies hanging tenatively above them as Fenrir holds it high above his head with one hand and grabs Cally's with the other.

 

Cally huffs and stops making grabs for the bag with his free hand and doesn't complain while Fenrir hauls him by the hand to the little muffin shop he's begun to think as  _'theirs'_  and Fenrir knows he is in so, so much trouble.

 

* * *

 

Fenrir has never claimed to be a wolfkin of good reasoning or the ability to think outside his emotions and make clear, rational decisions.

  
So when Cally shyly asks if Fenrir would like to play a round of Liar’s Dice with him- practicing to beat Willy, he says- Fenrir agrees, fully prepared to swindle Cally out of his meager baubles and lord it over him for a while before giving them back in a show of good grace.

 

He is not prepared for Cally taking all his dice in five turns and all of the baubles he'd managed to get by selling some rare furs with a positively  _wolfish_ grin and Fenrir is torn between horrified and proud and emotions he doesn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole and he's poked _Sand Wyrm pits_ with less.

 

Cally gets up gracefully, sweeps the offered baubles into a bag, smiling benignly and very clearly trying very hard not to laugh out loud at Fenrir's surely shocked and horrified expression and walks away, self satisfied and glowing with pride.

 

Fenrir has never claimed to be able to make clear, rational decisions but he prides himself on the fact that he didn't sweep Cally off his feet and pounce on him in a very different kind of way and sputters a shocked  _'Habi'b'_ after the Elvian who pays the wolfkin  _whose entire world is turning on its head_ no mind as he strolls away.

 

* * *

 

('Willy I can't believe you taught Cally how to swindle people. You've broken him."

 

"Hey, he  _came_ like that, I didn't teach him anythin'."

 

"I  _knew_ he was already part wolf- wait, does this mean he got you too?"

 

"We're  not gonna talk about that, Scruffles.")

 

* * *

 

"I thought you were supposed to be the rational one of the group, Sorren," Fenrir grumbles towards the shirtless halfborn, and while Fenrir does not and will  _never_ have any problems with Sorren being shirtless in his presence the distraction is unfortunately not enough to take his mind off of his impending loss.

 

Sorren doesn't grace him with a response.

 

Fenrir reluctantly unwinds his scarf from around his neck, careful to keep the small plushie inside lodged safely between the folds, and Willy leers at him from from where he's sitting, cross-legged and already stripped down to his underwear and only his underwear.

 

"Gettin' hot in here Scruffles?" Willy teases and Fenrir rolls his eyes with a snort.

 

"Says the guy who lost first. Eager to strip down?" Fenrir shoots back with a leer of his own, and Cally- still fully dressed, with a literal pile of baubles sitting to his left and currently beating them out of their  _clothing_ Cally- sighs delicately at them. 

 

The next round starts and Willy turns down a bust hand.

 

"Take a man's baubles, take a man's  _clothes,_ but you can't take his dignity," Willy grumbles, standing and looking very prepared to shuck his underwear as well, and Cally turns a very charming shade of red alarmingly fast.

 

"Please don't," he squeaks, before clearing his throat awkwardly, "Are you sure you don't just want to bet more baubles?" Cally pleads, and Sorren hums in agreement.

 

"I'll pay baubles for you to keep your pants on, Willy. Though I suppose it's never stopped you in the past..."

 

"Sorren!" Willy gasps, exaggerating his hurt, before smiling in his best approximation of a wolfish leer (He's gotten better since he's started spending more time with Fenrir. The wolfkin in question is torn in whether he is pleased by this or not.) and leans over Sorren conspiratorially.

 

"That's not what you said last night," he sing-songs, and Sorren doesn't even grace Willy with a response, just settles for punching him in the back of the knee and sending Willy sprawling to the floor, and directly into Fenrir.

 

"Well, you're not the pretty thing I was  _hoping_ to land on," Willy tries to grumble and ruins it by laughing halfway through.

 

" _Ancients,_ Willy, what've you been eating?" Fenrir huffs, putting exaggerated strain to his voice as he tries to shove Willy off, "All those pancakes are finally starting to come back to bite you, Willy."

 

Willy gasps, offended, "How  _dare_ you say that about my beloved pancakes! And I'm fit as a fiddle!"

 

"Defending the pancakes first, I see," Sorren remarks casually, shoving all of Cally's gains into a bag as the Elvian seems to have resorted to hiding his face in his hands to block out the less-reasonable members of his family, and Fenrir huffs in disappointment that he can't be wrestling with Cally to pull his hands away from his face- he's had that particular fight with Cally before and sported a magnificent bruise on his chin for weeks to come- the Elvian could really throw a punch when he wanted to.

 

Fenrir stops that train of thought very, very quickly.

 

Willy throws the majority of his weight into Fenrir's stomach and he huffs out a breath in surprise before giving it back as good as he's got, locking Willy's head in a hold and trying to throw his weight to the side.

 

"Children-" Sorren starts-

 

"You two might want to stop," Cally says-

 

"Bite me Willy!" Fenrir growls-

 

"Death before dishonor!" Willy shouts-

 

"So," the Sealer says, standing in the door with eyes wide but not  _near_ as shocked or alarmed as they probably should be, "is this a bad time? Because there's new Prong Foxes at the bazzar and I  _need_ them."

 

"Sealer," Sorren says in his unique way, both a reprimand and a sigh all at once, and falls quiet as Cally stands hurriedly.

 

"Yes, good, Prong Foxes. Let's go, I'd like to see them! There haven't been many since I've met you so I'd like to meet some more," Cally says in one breath, fast and clearly rushed and the Sealer cheers in victory.

 

"Oh, also, does this mean that I officially have four dads? Because Willy and Fenrir told me that naked wrestling was a part of that process-" the Sealer starts, eyes wide and innocent (the pup's gotten better since Fenrir's been teaching them. This, he can say, he is most certainly proud of.) and Sorren whips to face the two who scramble to untangle themselves, all the levity and good nature of their brawl lost.

 

"They did, did they?" Sorren grinds out, and the Sealer nods innocently and Willy shoots them a wounded look, genuinely horrified.

 

"Oh, wait, did you want to stay too Cally? I can show you later if it's a bad time, and Sorren's already half undressed," they add on, leaving their sentence hanging like a question, and Cally all but drags them towards the door.

 

The Sealer meets Willy's eyes, unflinching and unblinking, and mouths 'Azara' once. They don't need to do it again.

 

"That's fair," the pirate grumbles into Fenrir's hair and Sorren clears his throat quietly and Willy flinches visibly above him.

 

 Fenrir is not above swallowing his pride.

 

"Cally save me," he begs, and the Elvian outright ignores him as he goes about getting his bag ready, swiping the bag of baubles from the floor and delicately sidestepping the grab Fenrir makes for his ankle.

 

"If I go down, you go down with me," Willy says, deadly serious, and Fenrir shoots his best 'puppy-dire eyes' at Cally's back.

 

"Habi'b please," he begs, and Willy startles into a laugh and loosens his grip in surprise and Fenrir almost, almost squirms away.

 

"Did- did you just call Cally-" he sputters out between laughs, loud and ringing in Fenrir's ears, and Cally slams the door shut with the Sealer in tow.

 

Sorren steps up behind them almost silently and Willy's laughter stops abruptly.

 

"So what have you two been teaching the Sealer?"

 

* * *

 

 "So Fenrir," Willy says one day over his pancakes- Sorren has finally, finally let them have pancakes again, and Fenrir's pretty sure Willy cried- and Fenrir sighs loudly because if Willy  _ever_ calls him by his given name it's bad news.

 

"So Willy."

 

"Why'd you call Cally sweetheart?"

 

"Slip of the tongue," Fenrir answers quickly, avoiding Willy's eyes, "and how do you know I wasn't talking to Sorren? I could've been begging him for mercy."

 

"At that point, you and I both know there will be no mercy," Willy answers solemnly, and promptly ruins it by shoving at least half of a pancake into his mouth at one time with a groan that would make Cally cover the Sealer's ears.

 

"Nah," he says, muffled through his food though Willy has long mastered the art of speaking while not stopping eating, especially if pancakes are involved, "you've got a... tone, somethin', you use for Cally and Cally alone."

 

"I do?" the wolfkin says, quiet and surprised, and Willy pounces on the opportunity.

 

"Yeah, didn't notice? Aww, Scruffles, if I didn't know any better I'd say you had a crush!"

 

Fenrir throws the salt shaker at his head.

 

* * *

 

Fenrir takes up the habit of holding Cally's hand wherever they go.

 

("I'm- what is with you suddenly needing to coddle me everywhere we go?" Cally asks, but his tone isn't unkind, mostly fond.

 

"I've learned since I went with you and the Sealer to the bazzar to look at the pets for sale. This way I don't have to keep my eyes on you constantly- can't sneak away if I'm holding your hand captive, Habi'b."

 

It's a flimsy excuse, but Cally either doesn't notice or doesn't comment, smiling in the fond yet exasperated way he reserves just for Fenrir, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he subconsciously moves closer to the wolfkin.

 

Fenrir is in so, so much trouble.)

 

* * *

 

 

It occurs to Fenrir once, when he and Cally are out buying muffins and the old lady at the counter tries to give them a couples' discount which Cally quickly denies, sputtering and red, that they are essentially dating- the strange concept that dating is, anyway.

 

They go places together, hold hands, Fenrir snarls at everyone who wolf whistles at or keeps their eyes on Cally just a little too long to be simple curiosity, and they get muffins together- he'd mistake them for a couple, as well.

 

Fenrir watches Cally tend to his garden when they return, eyes dark and predatory as he considers his options.

 

Sneak-dating someone doesn't seem like something a decent person would do.

 

Fenrir has never claimed to be a decent person.

 

* * *

 

 

("What does 'Habi'b' mean, anyway?" Cally asks him once as they hide out from a thunderstorm in the greenhouse- he more mumbles it into Fenrir's shoulder, because Fenrir insists on cuddling through thunderstorms for a variety of reasons- but he says it  less as a question and more a comment, simply remarking on a question that's been knocking about in his head for a while.

 

"It means 'deer'," Fenrir answers easily, because it's not a  _total_ lie. It's a synonym for a different way to spell deer, wouldn't be picked up through speech and it's not like Cally's asking him to write down the definition.

 

Cally hums, laughing in a way that shakes his entire body but not loudly, unwilling to break the quiet around them more than for sleepy conversation.

 

"Of course it does.")

 

* * *

 

The happy bubble of dating-but-not-dating-because-we're-not-telling-Cally-that-we're-dating lasts longer than Fenrir had been expecting, to be fair.

 

"I  _cannot_ believe you!" Cally fumes, pacing angrily along the floor of the greenhouse, and Fenrir watches him passively from where he's still mostly entangled in Cally's sheets on the bed, and it's really too early for Cally to have an existential panic about relationships.

 

"Come back to bed," Fenrir grumbles, raising the side of the blanket he's underneath like an invitation and Cally stops his pacing to fix him with a glare.

 

"I'm- what kind of a person  _sneak dates someone?!"_ Cally almost shouts, and he doesn't often raise his voice and he sounds at least a little genuinely panicked and Fenrir's heart twists a little in his chest.

 

"Okay so I admit it wasn't my best idea," he says, but the lie is thick on his tongue. He'd do it again.

 

 _"Fenrir,"_ Cally groans, and puts all of his exasperation and his fear and his fondness into the word and he buries his burning face in his hands.

 

"I like the way you say my name," Fenrir says honestly, and Cally hits him with a pillow and that's as good as a declaration of war as Fenrir's ever heard.

 

Fenrir's pouncing lessons seemed to have paid off for the little prince, at least, because he does manage to dodge the first time Fenrir lunges at him- Fenrir'll let Cally believe he dodged it, at least, because Fenrir knows how to get his prey to go where he wants it and when Cally accidentally backs up into the bed and goes tumbling onto it he's got his pretty deer exactly where he wants him.

 

"Fenrir!" Cally huffs as the breath leaves him as the wolfkin all but lies down on top of him, squishing the air out of him.

 

Fenrir rolls, pulling Cally on top of him then into his lap as he sits up, and Cally instinctively locks his legs around Fenrir's waist so as not to fall and digs a heel into Fenrir's back when he leers at him.

 

"Little bit more clothes than when I imagined getting you in my lap, but," Fenrir trails off and Cally laughs despite himself, a little hysterical but it's still Cally's laugh and Fenrir smiles winningly back at him.

 

"You can't- you can't just  _do_ that Fenrir!" he says as he calms down, and there are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and alright  _maybe_ Fenrir's rushing them down this but it's  _fun_ so why not?

 

"Can to," he says, trying for serious but his grin ruins it, "I can do whatever- and  _whoever-_ I want," he leers, smile comically wide and he even wiggles his eyebrows just because he knows it'll get Cally to laugh and he's not disappointed.

 

"I'm not- I don't know how to do relationships," the elvian warns, but he leans his head against Fenrir's shoulder, gripping Fenrir's shirt loosely as he says it, growing somber.

 

"I don't really either, if it makes you feel better."

 

"It does, for some strange reason,"  Cally laughs lightly breath tickling Fenrir's skin where it runs across it.

 

"I- I don't think I can do a relationship."

 

"It doesn't have to be one," Fenrir hums, breathing in Cally's scent as the pulse racing beneath his fingers slows, "we can just be Fenrir and Cally."

 

"Fenrir and his  _Habi'b?_ _"_ The elvian teases, sagging against Fenrir who goes rigid.

 

"I thought you didn't know what that meant."

 

"Willy told me," Cally admits, and Fenrir grabs him by the face to look the elvian in the eyes.

 

"If you knew then why were you freaking out?" Fenrir asks, making a mental note to beat Willy when they next sparred.

 

"I didn't think you were serious!" Cally argues back, and Fenrir decides that words are useless and drags Cally's face close to his.

 

"I'll show you serious," he grows, and hauls Cally into a kiss.

 

* * *

 

(Later, when Fenrir is pleased with the amount of fog that had accumulated on the greenhouse windows, when Cally is leaning back against him in his lap, hair undone as Fenrir plays with it and surveys the marks he left behind on Cally, the ones that could be covered up by Cally's usual clothing and the ones that couldn't, Cally speaks, soft and unsure.

 

"Fenrir and Cally?"

 

Fenrir hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the back of Cally's ear just to feel the shiver run through his body at the action, "Fenrir and his _Habi'b.")_

**Author's Note:**

> So this took much longer than anticipated you know when you save a draft in AO3 it gives you the expiration date of the draft well and that's a month from when you started well this was going to go in three days
> 
> Okay yes I failed NaEldWriMo but I'm going to keep doing the prompts and posting them underneath that tag because it makes me feel like I did something okay
> 
> This one is for the lovely Benathorn as a gift for all of her amazing work and for dealing with me even though I accidentally-on-purpose dragged her site into an actual world war <3
> 
> idk I usually have paragraphs to say at the end of these but this one is just a 'I hope you enjoyed it and let me know in the comments below' ending so I hope you all enjoyed reading and let me know in the comments below <3
> 
> (I had to bump this up to PG13 for you Bena I hope you're happy)


End file.
